wiggins mail

Someone sent me a creepy link today. Click HERE and see for yourself. Wiggle the mouse for assured wiggins. You'll love me for it.

shifting

I went and saw Paris, Je T'aime last night at the Lumiere. It was fantastically interesting and I kept wanting to follow the five minute story lines... but then the film would shift, immersing us in a different vignette and I would captivated all over again. I think this one, by Tom Tykwer, was one of my favorites:

oil update

For those of you concerned with my steel-toed boot safety in disturbingly polluted wetlands, rest easy knowing that we are no longer doing field work at that creepy, nostril searing site. Not since a coworker of mine broke through the surface crust of a wetland by walking on it and ended up shin deep in a pond of oil. Realize the grossness. A pond of OIL under about 4 inches of dirt and algal crust that misleadingly looks solid.Where he fell in.Clothes to discard, now HazMat.

ew.

in the grand scheme

Things have been pretty mellow round these parts. Last week, I watched more television/movies in a few days than I have in the last two months. Pretty much. Visual delights included The Departed, Bram Stoker's Dracula, Stomp the Yard, some buffy, The Darwin Awards, the pilot of Twin Peaks, and hours of Battlestar Galactica (those last two were on TVlinks). It was a nice medley of television vegging. (PS, Stomp the Yard is crap for plot, but ohmygod some of the dancing is amazing.)

Sunday, having emerged from my hermitage, the family gathered for family gathering. All American meal of steak and potatoes and green beans and, wow, the neices, they are funny.
Last night, I spoke to Anna on the phone:

Me: Well, in the Grand Scheme of Things, it's really not a big deal.

Anna: The Grand Scheme? Who the hell lives there?

end scene.

from the other side

It's been a shit week. I just came home from the doctors and various pharmacies (Kaiser!) and feel spent and sad and dejected and just want to lie down after consuming various drugs.....and on the landing in front of my door were flowers. All the way from Iraq, figuratively. Thanks Af. Really. You made me good cry.

oil of

We breathed in air that seared our noses and throats and left a metallic taste in our mouths. Booties had to be placed over our steel-toed boots in order to keep oil and dust on the site and out of our cars or moved off the property. When the shower water hit my hair, my bathroom flooded with the scent of coal.

i wish i was an octopus

found this here. it may be my most favorite thing about today.

no shutter snapped

Brian's birthday soirée was Friday night; we all bedazzled ourselves, drank fancy mojitos and nibbled on hors d'oeuvres. happy 29th! I took no photos, so I have to post a recent beautiful gem of the birthday boy:Saturday saw me at the Rickshaw Stop with some peeps watching Triple Cobra play. Super Rad. The Binges opened for them and I think I fell a little in love. Glitter, glam, rock n' roll, and somewhere amidst the confetti, we didn't quite notice how strong they serve the drinks there. No pics this night either (I'm sorry, but the digi SLR doesn't fit in my fashionable clutch), but here's the art for the night:

bring on the fiya

We received new outfits to protect us at the post apocalyptic refinery next week. I'll be sure to capture the full outfit: helmet, glasses, gloves, and mini-steel toed boots. You love my job what? I'll be working in the oily water canal.........don't be jealous.

in the hills of pleasanton

A fairly droll day in the field. Walking around counting plants, picking up golf balls, and evading golfers. It was pretty and the plants are doing well and there are far less weeds than last year.

many faces

Palo Alto Baylands at low tide.

Yes, we 111 Minna-ed.

Call it what you will. Mock-Marina. Get yo' rap on. Those crazy folk all wearing sunglasses indoors. Friday night saw us out for Colette's 25th birthday and we owned our look whatever way you shake it. And shake it we did.

On our way. The birthday girl.

On our way. the beautiful Miss Rachel.

On our way. Turn-style T.

mini-pause. marketing.

Art begets art.happiness with a lemon wedge....

and gold beads.

shakin our money makers!

typs.

glaringly hawt.

painting roberto

Thursday was Rob's birthday, and we celebrated with rollers and brushes and paint of many shades. My favorite paint jeans acquired splatters of sunshine yellow on the thigh and a roller print of eggshell white on my butt from one Mr. Kellet. Good times. Good vibes, good friends, pizza, and cheap beer permeated the Sunset House. Happy Birthday Roberto. Welcome new roomies.

Tara reaching and brushing.

Esser says the top step is slick. Have care. And Rob surveys his new REALLY blue bathroom.

today, yesterday, and the other

today:
Cancer: June 21-July 22

"I tell young people that the greatest paintings in museums are made with minerals mixed in oil smeared on cloth with the hair from the back of a pig's ear," says artist James Rosenquist. I hope that thought incites you to achieve pragmatic breakthroughs in the coming weeks, Cancerian. It's time to play in the mud and risk making a mess, if necessary, in order to translate your beautiful visions into earthy realities.

Yesterday:

Brinly had her first day of school yesterday. Incredibly excited, she called me at 645 AM so that I could wish her luck. My sister has been feeling the bittersweet sting of her eldest loosing teeth and starting kindergarten.....aka getting all small person-like. But she needn't worry; the childlike exuberance is strong in that one. Brinly was so excited about school at the end of the day that she literally threw herself at my sister in her eagerness....sending them both sprawling on the sidewalk. Oh yes, that is the principal's wife and daughter woot!

and the other day:

let them eat cake and drink beer on the roof. lazy foggy SF Saturdays.